


all was golden in the sky / all was golden when the day met the night

by charleybradburies



Series: when the day met the night [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Actors, Clothing, Community: 1_million_words, Developing Relationship, Dorks in Love, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Female-Centric, First Time, Flirting, Implied Sexual Content, Kitchen Sex, Letters, Lingerie, Morning After, POV Female Character, Partial Nudity, Post-Canon, Seduction, Sexual Tension, Spies & Secret Agents, Surprises, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 10:48:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3566870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charleybradburies/pseuds/charleybradburies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His confused expression seems more smile than anything, but she can feel herself blush, worrying for the first time that the image of her, lounging around in his apartment in what was essentially lingerie, was not at all what he expected to find when he arrived home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all was golden in the sky / all was golden when the day met the night

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Panic! at the Disco's "When the Day Met the Night."

When she wakes up the next morning, he isn’t there, and if she weren’t in his bedroom - Hell, in his bed - she would have sworn it was all a dream.

But no.

She’s clad in her panties and a thin light blue dress shirt, the two photos in her earliest line of sight are of him with his grandmother and some Navy buddies, respectively, and the closet’s been left open, so as to make the red dress she’d worn the night before obvious, in between the collection of dress shirts that’s been pushed aside to accommodate it and the red high heels below it; and when she slips into the almost-suspiciously-clean bathroom the only thing in the trash can is a used condom and _holy mackerel that really happened._

She doesn’t feel like putting her dress back on, but she can feel her stomach growl, so she decides that her best option is just to hope that he doesn’t mind her sitting half naked in his kitchen. She’s pretty sure he wouldn’t.

_Or won’t. I wonder how he’d react if I were still here when he got back?_

She does up a couple more buttons, mostly for the sake of the illusion of attempted modesty, and is thankful that the kitchen’s rather easy to find. The Friday paper’s been disassembled on the surprisingly large table, but it’s only when she approaches that she realizes there’s a note on top of it, and she silently curses her heart for beating a bit faster.

The chair she sits down on is cold against her thighs, and she considers taking a moment just to sit it out, but she sees that there’s a kettle on top of the stove and sets herself on making a cup of tea. All the necessary things are easy enough to find, and the cold is much less crisp when juxtaposed with a Navy logo mug cradled in her hands.

_Angie,_

_(I hope you’re okay with me calling you that now - if not, just pretend I wrote Martinelli)_

_Sorry I missed you this morning. I’d have woken you up, but I was pretty sure it wouldn’t have been well-received, even for just a momentary kiss, so I really do hope you slept well, cause if you didn’t, what was the point?_

_No, I’m just kidding you. Although I do hope you slept well. I know I slept better than I have in a long time._

_There’s a lot I’d like to tell you, but I don’t know what mood you’ll be in when you find this or anything, so I’ll refrain from talking more about feelings. Which I’m terrible at in the first place, so win-win, I guess._

_The kettle’s on the stove - mugs are in the cupboard immediately above the sink. Plates and bowls are to the immediate right of the mugs. Silverware in the far left drawer, utensils to their right (immediate left of the sink.) Tea and most of my food is in the pantry, down the little hallway on the side of the kitchen. If you reach the laundry room, you’ve gone too far._

_Don’t worry too much about putting dishes away or anything. That’s my responsibility._

_I figure you’ve found your clothes, but if you haven’t, I put them in the closet. I know it was warm yesterday - if it’s too cold out when you leave for just the dress, you should take a jacket. I won’t mind. If nothing else it’ll be an excuse to see you again._

_If you want to brush your teeth, there’s a spare brush below the bathroom sink. Also, some perfume. I don’t remember whose it is, but it does smell nice._

_Everything else is pretty easy to find, I think. Bookshelves, radio, all that. I know I kind of let slip about the drawings last night, but I would prefer to show them to you in person. If you want to stay around, feel free. Just make sure not to let anybody in or anything like that, and make sure not to set anything on fire._

_That covers most everything, doesn’t it?_

_If it turns out you really do need something else, you did mention that you have Carter’s number. There is an address book in the bedside table drawer - all my colleagues are in there. I know it's been a few months, but I haven't gotten rid of Dooley's information, so the number for my office is under his name._

_Please don’t call any family members or former girlfriends._

_Yes, that includes Gam-Gam._

_Thank you for a splendid evening and an amazing night._

_Jack (or Thompson, if you’d rather)_

_P.S. - Dooley had gotten tickets from a higher-up for an upcoming performance of_ Born Yesterday _\- his wife Susan offered them to me a while ago, since she doesn’t intend to go…I hadn’t accepted then, since I hadn’t had anyone to go with, but she’d said she wanted them to go to someone from the SSR._

_Considering you’ll be up there one day you really should get as much experience around Broadway as you can, and I’m more than willing to be of assistance, so if you would like to accompany me, I’ll ring her up and see if she hasn’t given those to someone else._

Angie finds a radio station that’s replaying a few episodes of Captain America, and after doing a little totally-warranted-because-they-slept-together snooping, she spends most of the day lazing around on the couch, a blanket thrown haphazardly over herself and a rotation of tea mugs in her hands as she facetiously comments on the program. It’s quite fun, really - imagining Peggy feigning such a faint-hearted character as Betty Carver, the justice-driven Steve that she’s been told countless stories about being hilariously arrogant…and Howard was amusing in the first place, as long as no one was in mortal danger. 

Jack is humming when he opens the door, and the sound of him stops abruptly, so Angie rolls herself off the couch and flicks off the radio, standing up quickly to face him. His confused expression seems more smile than anything, but she can feel herself blush, worrying for the first time that the image of her, lounging around in his apartment in what was essentially lingerie, was not at all what he expected to find when he arrived home. 

“Hi,” she says, her voice uncertain and her posture becoming more so, but his smile immediately widens a bit.

“Didn’t think you’d still be here,” Jack replies, his disbelief blatantly obvious.

“Yeah, well, you did say I could stay if I wanted,” Angie pushes, trying to make her tone stronger. 

“I did, but I decided not to be so forward as to say that I wanted you to.”

“Cowboy, we are _way_ past forward,” she chuckles, and the warmth in her voice isn’t something she has to fight for, though she does cross her arms over her chest, still conscious of her exposure. 

He nods good-naturedly, half a laugh spilling from his lips as he sets his briefcase down next to the door and loosens his tie. 

“That…is a very good point.”

“Ain’t it? I make a lot o’ those. It’s cause I’m smart.”

He’s started taking off his jacket, but he looks back at her and grins.

“No argument here.”

“Damn right, there ain’t,” she says teasingly, and they both laugh.

Angie decides against standing in place, and pads softly over to the end of the kitchen table closest to him, seating herself upon it. For a moment, as he’s hanging up his jacket, he seems not to realize that she’s moving closer, but once he turns back around and sees her, the wolfish look that comes to rest upon her without a second to spare is instantly recognizable as quite similar to that he’d worn the previous evening. Despite that, Jack appears unsure what he’s to do, and as her own boldness swells she crooks a finger and beckons him over. He obliges her with ease, and though the smile and the kiss he greets her with are sweet and soft, he’s anything but resistant when she curls her legs around his backside and pulls him tight against her.

A passing question graces her mind, as to _just how much_ self-control the Navy impresses upon its sailors, because _she_ can’t even handle how hard he is - especially pressed right up her between her legs _dear **God** how hadn’t he torn his pants off already is she going to have to do **everything**_ \- but it gives way just as easily as it came to notably different thoughts. She whines audibly when his lips break away from hers, but he quickly explains himself with a whisper. 

“I should go get-"

“Utensil drawer.”

Jack’s expression turns again to one that’s pleasantly and lustfully surprised, and Angie, somewhat reluctantly, loosens her legs, allowing him the leverage to pull one of his condom packages from the drawer. He doesn’t move far enough away from her that she can’t undo his belt and start on tugging his pants down while he’s that short distance away from her.

“You thought of everything, didn’t you?” he says huskily as he sets the condom near her on the table and wraps his arms around her.

“Like I said, I’m smart,” she jokes, and though she expects him to tease her back, his response is just to kiss her with electrifying enthusiasm.


End file.
